Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

With her hands splayed across his chest, she raised her hips and almost released him, then slid back down and took all of him into her hot, slick depths. Then she did it again, and again, and his hips rose to meet hers.

  The fire burned out of control. Joanna had had no idea a woman could feel so many things at once, but above the heartache, the fear of losing him, her overwhelming love for him, was the need and the hunger and the fire.

  Faster, hotter, harder. Higher and higher she climbed, and she could feel that Pace was with her every step of the way, and she wanted to shout and scream and cry with the glory of it.

  Pace watched her through a red haze of pleasure until the pleasure became unbearable and it erupted in a hot stream, jerking his hips clear off the mattress. They cried out together, shot off the edge of the earth together. Soared together. He felt her tighten and convulse around him, milking him of every drop of the life force surging through his loins.

  She collapsed on his chest with a sob.

  Dazed, breathless, Pace slipped his wrists free of the scarf and wrapped his arms around her.

  Joanna was aware that time had passed, but she didn’t know how much time. The wracking pleasure throbbing through her had finally eased. She wiped her damp cheeks on Pace’s chest and raised her head.

  He was looking at her, his blue eyes, so dark in the heat of their lovemaking, were light, his lashes damp. In wonder, she touched the lashes on one eye. A crystal drop of moisture rolled down her finger. “Pace?”

  “Don’t say anything.” Cradling her in his arms, he rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs.

  Joanna’s eyes widened. She couldn’t read his face. Only the tension communicated itself to her. What was wrong? It had worked! They had made love, and he’d had no problem. What was wrong? “Pace?”

  Instead of answering, he kissed her. It was hard and deep, and the fire that had only just died burst into flames again. He cupped her cheek in his strong palm, and when she felt the tremor in his hand, she understood that he still did not trust is body’s ability. Even after what they had just shared, he didn’t believe he could give her what he thought she needed.

  She clutched him to her frantically, answering his kiss with desperation. Then she tore her mouth free. “We don’t have to do this. Pace, you don’t have to prove anything, not to me.”

  “Maybe I have to prove it to me,” he answered grimly.

  There was no slow buildup, no teasing touches or soft words. He was beyond that.

  It shouldn’t be like this, her heart cried. They should come together in love and joy, not with lines of grim determination etched on his face and doubt clouding his eyes.

  With a hand beneath her hips, he lifted her and plunged inside, deep and hard. Joanna had thought to be disappointed, but the explosion of pleasure at his possession left no room for anything but ecstasy. She cried out and dug her fingers into his shoulders.

  “Jo?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes. At the question in his voice she opened them and could not hold back her smile at the new confidence she saw in his eyes.

  The tenor of his lovemaking changed, gentled. He filled her slowly, again and again. Each movement, each caress and kiss, was an unspoken celebration of two hearts and souls finding their way back to each other after months of dark loneliness. It was a renewal, an affirmation of their love for each other. Each moment, each thrust took them higher and higher.

  The tenor changed again, evolving into something hot and primitive, an irresistible force urging them on and on, drawing the tension tighter, feeding the fire that burned between them until it exploded deep and low and sent streaks of light to fill the room and blind them to all but each other.

  In the aftermath, they clung together and slipped into sleep.

  Chance woke them. Judging by the light outside, Pace and Joanna had slept only a few minutes after their second lovemaking. As Chance wound up for a good shriek, Joanna moaned and tried to sit up.

  Pace’s arms held her down. “Stay here. I’ll get him.”

  When he left the bed to go get their son, Joanna shivered. Twice they had reached fulfillment together. A few moments ago she’d seen confidence in his eyes. Yet now he would not meet her gaze.

  He brought the baby to her and she took Chance in her arms. Immediately he latched on to her breast and suckled. Joanna chuckled at his zeal. She looked up, intending to comment to Pace where he stood beside the bed, but his bleak expression as he looked down at her and the baby dried the words in her throat. All she could manage was a tortured version of his name.

  Pace knew she didn’t understand. She thought their troubles were over, and they should be. They had made love. Twice. His body had not failed him. He could call himself a man again. He could satisfy his wife.

  But there was something else wrong, something he didn’t begin to understand, and it scared him. He felt as if some vital part of himself was still missing. Dammit, he loved her! She was his life and he wanted to stand beside her and be the man she thought he was. He wanted to give her more children. Wanted to hold her hand and sit beside her on the veranda and watch their grandchildren play beneath the cottonwoods.

  He wanted to tell her all of his dreams and listen to hers. Wanted to share every part of himself that he thought she could bear. But the things he wanted to say to her slipped away, and he ended up on his knees beside the bed, gazing at his son taking sustenance from her breast, seeing the questions and fear in Joanna’s cloudy green eyes.

  “I would die for you,” he told her, his voice thick with emotion.

  She cupped his cheek in her soft palm. “I know that. You did die for me.”

  Pace turned his face and buried his lips against her palm, then pulled her hand away and held it in both of his. “I would kill for you. I would steal, lie, cheat. I would do anything, give everything I have, everything I am to make you happy. You asked me to stay, and I’ve turned my back on you again and again. And still you ask. I don’t want to leave you again, God, I don’t, Firefly. But I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you again. I can’t even promise that what we shared in this bed this morning will happen again every time we want it to.

  “I have no right to the kind of happiness you give me, but you asked me to stay again last night. If that offer’s still open…”

  With the baby at her breast, Joanna let out a glad cry and threw herself against Pace’s chest. She held Chance with one arm and Pace with the other, and he held them both in his. Her joy-filled kiss eased the fear in his soul.

  There were still shadows in Pace’s eyes. Joanna prayed they would fade with time. He said he was staying. That was the most important thing. Whatever else was wrong, they would face it together and find a way to solve it. If they couldn’t solve it, they would learn to live with it. As long as they were together, Joanna knew they would be all right.

  While Pace was out talking to Enrique about the day’s work, she busied herself putting breakfast on the table. With every step she took, the slight soreness between her legs reminded her of how they had spent the wee hours of the morning. She still couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to do what she’d done. She would never be able to look at that blue scarf again without blushing.

  Bootsteps sounded on the back porch, and a moment later the door swung open. Joanna turned and saw that for now his eyes were clear of shadows. She smiled. “You’re just in time. Breakfast is ready.”

  “Good.” With a smile of his own, Pace swept her into his arms. “I’m starved.” He kissed her until her breath was gone and the room was spinning. Then he stepped back and grinned.

  He hadn’t liked it when she’d tiptoed around his feelings and watched every word she’d said. He hadn’t liked her constant praise. He’d been right. It wasn’t her. After this morning in bed, she felt free to be herself again. Joanna pursed her lips. “Got your appetite back, did you?”

  Pace hooted with laughter. “And you got your mouth back, I see.” Suddenly
he frowned. “What’s wrong with your face?”

  “Well, thank you very much. Now you don’t like my face? You weren’t complaining about my face earlier this morning.”

  “I like your face just fine.” He took her chin between thumb and forefinger and turned her head this way and that. Then, to her amazement, he started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “Pace, what in the world? We just…I mean, twice! Breakfast will…get cold.”

  He ran a finger over the swell of one breast. “Damn. I’m sorry, Firefly.”

  She looked down to see what he was swearing about. Beneath his finger, her skin was red. “Oh, that.” In light of everything else, it seemed ridiculous to blush over whisker burns on her breast, and obviously on her face as well, but she couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to the surface of her skin.

  Pace chuckled. “Camouflaged by a blush. I guess I’m going to have to take up regular shaving again.”

  Unnerved by her body’s reaction to the sudden heat in his eyes, Joanna busily rebuttoned her blouse. “Breakfast,” she reminded him breathlessly.

  He watched her as he took his place at the table. “You’re nervous. You weren’t nervous yesterday or the day before.”

  She thought to evade his implied question, but he had bared his soul to her. She owed him her honesty at least. They’d been married for just over a year but had never lived together as man and wife. There were bound to be adjustments, for both of them. Speaking to Pace of intimate matters now shouldn’t be difficult or embarrassing. Not after the way she’d talked to him the day he’d arrived, and then the things she’d said and done this morning in bed.

  “I’ve never known you to be shy before, Firefly. What’s the matter? Are you maybe wishing your seduction this morning hadn’t worked quite so well? Did you think once would satisfy me and I’d leave you alone?”

  “You can’t believe that!”

  “I don’t want to, but when you shy away from my touch and won’t talk, I’m left thinking the worst.”

  “I guess this is going to take some getting used to. Being married, I mean. Living together as man and wife.”

  “Yeah.” He took a biscuit from the pan near his plate. “It’s going to take a hell of a lot of getting used to if I’m going to have to guess what you’re thinking. Dammit, Jo, if I’ve done something to make you nervous, tell me.”

  Joanna let her breath out in a rush. “It’s nothing you’ve done. I just…surprised myself, that’s all. When you touched me, and looked at me like you wanted to carry me back upstairs to bed, I…”

  His eyes darkened, and the biscuit came apart in his hand. “You what. Wished I hadn’t touched you?”

  “Wished you would carry me back upstairs—”

  The heat of passion flared in Pace’s eyes and sent a hot, moist signal straight to the heat building between her legs. He stood in a rush, and his chair crashed to the floor.

  With her heart racing, Joanna rose and stood beside the table. Pace swept her up in his arms and headed for the door. With a low growl, he said, “And if we don’t make it to the stairs?”

  Her hands were shaking as she unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hand inside to feel the hot vibrancy of his flesh. “All the better,” she breathed against his lips.

  In Pace’s mind, a wife deserved the courtesy of a bed when her husband made love to her. But he was a husband who’d been denied his wife for a full year, he was about to lose control, and the stairs were clear across the room.

  “Are you sure?” he managed.

  In answer, she slipped from his arms and pulled him down to the sofa with her. She lay back, pulled him on top of her, and reached for the buttons on his pants. “Are you going to talk about it, or do it?”

  Pace hooted with laughter. “Oh, woman, you are going to get it for that.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  He ran his hand up her skirt and laughed again. “Why, you little tease. Where’s your drawers?”

  With the last button on his pants undone, Joanna slipped her hand inside. “Where’s yours?”

  When she closed her fingers around him, and he slipped a finger inside her, they stopped laughing. He was hard and pulsing. She was hot and slick. They didn’t bother removing the rest of their clothes.

  Later, over heated looks that threatened to have them testing the stability of the dining room table this time rather than the sofa, they decided together that there wasn’t a thing in the world wrong with cold ham and eggs for breakfast.

  Pace was down to his last two bites of ham when he got suspicious. With a mock glare, he asked, “You didn’t bring pigs to Los Alamos, did you?”

  “Pigs? On Pace Colton’s ranch? I wouldn’t dare. I bought the ham in Naco. But I should warn you, with the way you like ham and bacon, pigs are inevitable.”

  “Why? You’ll just make pets out of them.”

  Joanna groaned. “Don’t remind me. You’re right. I’d never be able to eat one if I raised them.”

  Pace chuckled. “I think we can afford to buy a side of bacon now and then. What are you going to do today?”

  “When Rosa gets here, I’m going to let her look after Chance while I plant squash in the garden you tilled for me.”

  “It’s hot out.”

  “Squash like it hot.”

  “Why not let Rosa plant the squash?”

  “Because I like to plant things. You’re not going to start acting like a typical Colton husband, are you?”

  “How does a typical Colton husband act?”

  “Like his wife is a cross between an imbecile and an invalid.”

  Pace nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. “You’re joking. The men in this family aren’t that stupid. The women in this family wouldn’t stand for it.”

  Joanna smiled sweetly and batted her lashes. “I’m glad you agree. Now that that’s settled, what are you going to do today?”

  Pace laughed, knowing he’d lost the battle before it had begun. “Enrique and I are going to start on a new corral.”

  “What’s wrong with the three we have?”

  “Nothing, but we need more if I’m going to go into the horse training business.”

  Joanna brightened. “Are you?”

  “Yeah. I am. That okay with you?”

  “And if it wasn’t?” she teased.

  “You’re not going to start acting like a typical Colton wife, are you?”

  “How does a typical Colton wife act?”

  “Like she’s in charge.”

  “You’re joking. The women in this family aren’t that stupid. The men in this family wouldn’t stand for it.”

  Pace laughed out loud. “I’m glad you agree. Now that we’ve got that settled…”

  “Nothing’s settled. You don’t win this one, not completely,” she told them. “The women in this family are their husbands’ partners. They share the work and the worry, the good times and the bad. Partners don’t keep things from each other, and they treat each other as equals.”

  Pace lost all urge to laugh. “Will you be my partner, Joanna Colton?”

  “Any time, anyplace, Pace Colton, in every way there is.”

  Pace and Enrique marked off the location of the new corral, this one separate from the others. They would have to sort through the logs in the stack out near the garden and select the most likely candidates for posts and rails.

  “Let me finish repairing the harness,” Enrique said, “and we can hitch up the team and drag the logs.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll go take a look at the logs and see what we’ve got.”

  Watching Enrique head for the barn, Pace paused and used his kerchief to wipe the sweat from his face. Through the trees, out beyond the log pile, he caught a glimpse of Joanna’s white apron.

  She must be roasting out there in the garden. As her partner, the least he could do would be to take her a bucket of water for her seeds.

  Grinning, he grabbed a bucket from inside the barn and took it to the pump that suppl
ied water for the barn and corrals. The bucket was half full of water when he heard the first shot. It came from the direction of the garden.

  Pace dropped the bucket and started running. Automatically, his hand reached for his pistol. It came away empty. He’d seen no need to go armed to his own corral. Ice formed in his veins.

  “Joannnnaaaaa!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Some sixth sense had warned Joanna something was wrong before she heard the horse snort, telling her she wasn’t alone. She straightened abruptly and scanned the area. She saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just the woods surrounding the house two hundred yards behind her, and the paloverde, pyracantha, and piñon that surrounded the cottonwoods as far as the eye could see.

  That she had heard a horse but did not see one set the hairs along the back of her neck on end. She dropped her hand spade and turned and ran for the house. A shot came from behind and whizzed past her, kicking up a puff of dust two feet to her left.

  She dodged right. Hoofbeats pounded behind her. More than one horse! Ahead, from the direction of the barn, she heard Pace call her name. She had no breath to answer.

  Another shot. Closer this time. No time to make it to the house. She threw herself behind the pile of logs for cover.

  A second later, eight Mexican riders burst from the scrub and thundered toward her. She crouched while bullets plowed into the logs that were her only protection. Chips of wood flew past her head. One stung her cheek. If the riders got behind her, she’d be dead.

  She glanced behind her, judging the distance to the house, wanting desperately to run there and hide within its sturdy walls, but she knew she would never make it.

  Panic threatened to choke her. Who were these men? What did they want? Why were they shooting?

  From the corner of her eye she saw Pace make it to the house. Thank God he was safe!

  The riders were closer, almost to her garden. Another round of fire tore into the logs. Terror turned the inside of her mouth to cotton. Her arms jerked with every frantic, thundering beat of her racing heart.